The morning sun slanted through the wide glass windows of the Narumi penthouse, pouring light onto a long wooden table cluttered with plates, condiments, a steaming rice cooker, and a half-finished crossword puzzle titled "The Political Families of the Philippines – Who Died, Who Lied."
Conrad sat in his usual tank top, spooning sardines into his garlic rice while Droopy gnawed on a bone under the table. Anthony poured orange juice straight from the carton. Stephanie scrolled through her tablet with a look that screamed existential disappointment.
Kako, perfectly pressed in a cream silk robe and minimal makeup, sat upright as ever, sipping green tea and slicing papaya with precision.
Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and immediately smiled.
"Hi Dad," she greeted, her tone polite but with a tinge of formality.
On the other end came the crisp, familiar baritone of Fumio Shimizu—her father and chairman of Shimizu Global Holdings. A man of great wealth, sharper opinions, and legendary disapproval of his son-in-law.
"How is my little pumpkin?" he asked in Japanese. "Still arguing with that mother-in-law of yours who looks like Dorothy Zbornak from that American show?"
Kako chuckled, careful to hide it behind her teacup. "We're doing well, Father."
"Pumpkin, my birthday is next month," he said. "I expect you and the kids to be here. It's a special gathering. Very private. The CEO of Morimoto Arms, the chairman of EnsoSoft... and some members of the Diet."
"I will," Kako said, making a mental note. "I'll inform Conrad and the kids."
Her father scoffed. "That husband of yours won't come. He never shows up where real power gathers. Scums like him avoid rooms with mirrors."
Kako inhaled slowly. "I'm sure Conrad would be glad to join. Especially since I need support for his mayoral campaign. A little fundraising, perhaps?"
Fumio grunted. "We've thrown money at that country for years. All we got in return were rice tariffs and reality shows. Meanwhile, the Marinos, Innovare, and Penthouse Corp keep seizing more ground."
"Conrad is a shareholder in Penthouse Corp," Kako said calmly. "He doesn't even need to campaign. His patents alone could fund three political parties."
There was a pause.
"Fine. But I expect you here, on time, presentable—and speaking in complete sentences."
"I understand."
The call ended.
Conrad looked up from his plate. "What did your dad say?"
Kako placed the phone down with a sigh. "It's his birthday next month. He wants us there."
"Oh!" Conrad cried out, clutching his back and slowly sliding to the floor. "My spine! My aching lumbar! The agony, the betrayal! I cannot go!"
"Conrad..." Kako warned, narrowing her eyes.
He peeked up from the floor, sheepishly. "Okay, okay—I'll schedule the backache for next month. How's that?"
He crawled back into his chair and resumed eating like nothing had happened.
"My presence isn't needed there," he said through a mouthful of rice. "You can go. Bring Jamie, Anthony, and Stephanie. Maybe find them someone rich to marry. Royal family. Some zaibatsu with antique teeth and a weird cough."
"Dad!" the three chorused, glaring.
"What?" Conrad shrugged. "Those people are aristocrats. Only difference is the men have tiny weiners and the women wear compression bras."
Before anyone could react, a ceramic plate went flying.
Clack!
It bounced off his shoulder and hit the floor.
"Watch your mouth!" Kako snapped. "As if you didn't marry a flat-chested woman."
"Do I look at your chest more than I look at your face?" Conrad asked, winking. "No. Your eyes, your brain, and your flawless execution of the backhanded compliment are what I fell for."
Stephanie made a gagging noise.
"Admit it, Conrad," Kako said with a smirk. "You only had a thing for Bernadette back in the day because she had perkier assets. You weren't seduced by her legal arguments."
"Oh, please!" Conrad waved her off. "Bernadette? She couldn't seduce a cactus. You—you were the full package. Besides, you've got assets she never had."
"Oh?" Kako raised an eyebrow.
"Strategic mind. Endless patience for me. And that thing you do when we're alone—"
"Don't!" Jamie said, standing up.
"Maybe Bernard is my son after all!" Conrad teased.
"Dad!" Jamie turned beet red and stormed out of the dining room, footsteps echoing across the hallway.
Kako and Conrad burst into laughter, nearly falling out of their chairs. Conrad pointed toward the door Jamie disappeared behind. "We got her again! Classic reaction!"
Kako wiped a tear from her eye. "You never grow up."
"I married you, didn't I?" Conrad said, grinning. "That's the most mature decision I ever made."
Stephanie stood, pushing her chair in with a sigh. "You're all emotionally unstable. I'm going to class."
Anthony just poured more juice. "I'm telling Keith you said that."
As chaos settled and everyone returned to their rhythms, Kako leaned back with a rare, quiet smile.
She had a dinner to prepare for—a dinner full of judgment, legacy, and cold stares across lacquered tables.
But somehow, as she looked at Conrad—still chewing like a goat and playing with rice grains—she didn't feel alone in it.
----
The executive floor of the Narumi Building was less a place of business that day and more a glorified travel agency. Garment racks lined one hallway, luggage stood prepped and unzipped, and fabric samples covered the long glass table in the boardroom.
Bethany, wearing tinted glasses and a "Hello Kitty" headband, stood with a clipboard in one hand and swatches in the other. "Madam," she said with flair, "I think this blue dress is divine for Miss Jamie. Classic. Regal. Refined."
"And this peach?" she continued, holding up another gown like a curtain. "Perfect for Stephanie. Feminine but fierce."
Kako adjusted her reading glasses and nodded. "Pack both in the main luggage. Don't worry too much about Stephanie—she'll probably switch outfits last-minute. She's our resident fashion anarchist."
Bethany smirked. "She once wore pajamas to a brunch meeting with the embassy."
Kako nodded without looking up. "She called it 'diplomatic disobedience.'"
Bethany scribbled notes. "What about Boss Conrad, Madam?"
Kako sighed and set down her pen. "He's my real problem."
Bethany grinned, voice coy. "You know, if you really want him to come, you could convince him. You always do."
Kako looked away, muttering, "I will... later."
Bethany leaned against the desk. "I'm just saying, Madam... if the former mayor can be lured by lechon, he can be lured by something else."
Conrad lay in bed, half-buried in pillows, remote in hand, channel-surfing through a late-night lineup that included home shopping, anime reruns, and a 1996 drama about coconut smugglers.
Kako emerged from the bathroom, robe tied neatly, face glowing from her nightly skincare routine. She had the expression of a woman preparing for war.
"Conrad," she began, standing at the foot of the bed, "the party is next week."
Without missing a beat, Conrad clutched his chest. "Oh no, I'm having a hard time breathing. I can't go. My back hurts. My knees are failing. I think I'm catching... polio."
"You can't use the same excuse every year," Kako said flatly.
Conrad turned down the volume. "Why would I want to go to that hell?"
"Because you're my husband. Your presence is appreciated," Kako said, arms crossed.
Conrad snorted. "Appreciated? You mean for your dad to interrogate me again like I'm applying for a visa to marry you—twenty years late?"
"It's not about my father," Kako said with a tinge of irritation. "It's a business dinner. We'll be meeting new investors. Tokyo money. Real movers."
He gave her a suspicious look. "I move just fine without investors."
Kako approached the edge of the bed. "Conrad, I'm serious. I need you beside me this time."
He sighed dramatically, then sat up. "Okay. What if I offer a deal?"
She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of deal?"
Conrad scratched his head. "If you let me stay behind... I'll let you dictate Jamie and Stephanie's lives. Full matriarchal authority. Wipe their boyfriends out. Crush their dreams. No questions asked."
Kako blinked. "And what about Anthony?"
He shrugged. "We made a deal years ago. If we could only save two kids in a zombie apocalypse, we'd leave Anthony. He's fast. He'll survive."
Kako slapped his arm with a pillow, then grinned. "Deal."
Just outside their bedroom, pressed against the door like cartoon spies, Jamie, Anthony, and Stephanie stood frozen.
"Did... did he just say he'd leave me behind?" Anthony whispered.
Jamie rolled her eyes. "Only because he knows you'd outrun the zombies. And bring a girl with you."
Anthony blinked. "He knows?"
Stephanie waved them quiet. "Forget that—did you hear what Dad offered Mom?"
Jamie smirked. "We can use this."
---
Kako sat at the breakfast table reading logistics briefs while munching on buttered pan de sal. She looked up to find her three children standing shoulder-to-shoulder like student council officers about to deliver a motion.
"Mom," Stephanie began, "we heard your deal with Dad last night."
Kako lifted one eyebrow.
"But we have a better deal," Stephanie said.
Jamie stepped forward. "We'll help you lure Dad to the Tokyo party—on one condition."
Kako folded her arms. "I'm listening."
"You don't interfere in our lives anymore," Stephanie stated. "No pre-arranged marriages, no suitor interviews, no surveillance via Droopy's collar cam."
Kako leaned back slowly. "And how do you plan to lure him?"
The siblings huddled close. Stephanie whispered something. Jamie nodded. Anthony added a suggestion, then mimed pressing a button.
The whispering ended.
Stephanie stood up. "We'll tell him we want to visit Tokyo Disneyland and Universal Studios. If we make it sound like a bonding trip—he won't even blink."
Jamie added, "Then we reroute him to the Tokyo Imperial Hotel. Lock him into a tux. Serve him sashimi. Game over."
Kako stared at them... and smiled.
"Deal."
She stood, lifting her teacup like a chalice.
"To manipulation."
"To manipulation," the kids said in unison.
Anthony hesitated. "Wait, are we the bad guys?"
"No," Jamie said. "We're the protagonists in a romantic political comedy."
"Cool."
---
The next morning in the Narumi penthouse was bright and buzzing. Sunlight glinted off polished wood floors while the aroma of toasted brioche and matcha latte filled the open-plan kitchen. Conrad sat at the marble counter, splayed out in sweatpants and tank top, sipping coffee like it was rocket fuel.
Jamie leaned in with a sly smile. "Dad, did you know Tokyo Disneyland has a new ride called Star Wars: Hyperspace Mountain? It practically slings you into lightspeed."
Anthony bounded up with a brochure nearly half the size of his torso. He waved it before Conrad's face. "Check this out—giant mochi, monster ramen bowls, a world of anime exhibits!"
Conrad's eyes lit up as he flipped through it. "Lots of food, Dad," Anthony grinned.
Stephanie sailed into the room wearing a neon scrunchie, dragging a suitcase behind her. She flashed a ponytail and toy katana. "Oh! And there are samurai museums—and, you know, kabuki girl cosplayers everywhere. And a Pokémon Café with life-size Pikachus!"
Conrad nearly choked on his coffee. He blinked, stared at the kids, then jumped to his feet. "Wait—Pokémon Café?! Are you kidding me?"
Jamie nodded earnestly. "Totally, Dad."
He clapped his hands with uncharacteristic energy. "Bethany! Book me a ticket! We're going to Japan!"
Later that morning, out of earshot in her sleek Narumi Building office, Kako peered at two screens side by side. One displayed the Imperial Hotel ballroom layout, the other a guest list that spanned glossy columns of names—Takako Fujimiya, chairman of Penthouse Corp; Riho Marino, Asia's most powerful financier; Shimizu relatives and major peers.
Bethany hovered in a sharp blazer, eyes anxious but determined. "Madam, I've confirmed the Imperial hotel details. We have prime seating near the head table."
Kako tapped her lip. "Good. Political heavyweights—and Rabe may try to crash this." She paused at the column listing. "Riho Marino is also on the guest list. And six members of the Penthouse Seven."
Bethany swallowed. "I just hope the kids don't blow it up."
Kako nodded, steepling her fingers. "Me too. But that's why I appointed you to watch them."
---
In Jamie and Anthony's shared bedroom, Jamie held up a tailored navy blazer over Conrad's shoulders.
"Fit?" she asked, adjusting the lapel.
Conrad posed in front of the closet mirror. "Perfect." He twirled once, then made a duck face at Campari bottles lining the shelf. "Do I look like a bouncer or a tyrant?"
"Black-tie, Dad," Jamie said. "No ties. Classic."
Stephanie burst in, dropping a T‑shirt printed with "World's Best Dad". "For casual. And then a suit. For official dad." She winked, tossing a Tokyo metro guide onto the bed.
"Oh boy, oh boy!" Conrad said, grinning like a kid. "Thanks, kids—you make your father so happy, hehehe!"
Anthony leaned in with a phone, showing a YouTube playlist. "Dad, look—Super Sentai fight scenes, Kamen Rider anniversary special—this will keep you woke!"
Conrad laughed, accepting the phone. "You get the best of me, buddy."
----
Narumi family luggage stacked by the entrance, they arrived early. Conrad, in sunglasses, slippers, and an oversized hoodie reading Team Taho, dragged his suitcase behind him.
Jamie held his carry-on with nametags, Anthony had a Pokémon plushy tucked under his arm, and Stephanie wore a travel pillow shaped like a sushi roll.
Bethany hovered close, smoothing Conrad's hoodie. "Pack a charger, Dad. And—here—mochi!" She offered a tray of sticky rice cakes in pastel colors. Conrad took one gratefully.
"Bizarre flight trivia," Bethany continued. "Did you know Tokyo's Haneda airport made the world's longest sushi roll—1,000 meters?" She adjusted his seatbelt.
Conrad grinned. "I'll eat it. Every inch."
The boarding call boomed. They lined up, kids chattering, Bethany doting, and Kako watching from the gate, one eyebrow raised.
-----
Narumi family descended into the arrivals lounge. Conrad stretched, yawning theatrically. He still slept on the plane, headset on ears.
The valet from the Shimizu residence came forward, gloved and dignified. "Mr. Narumi, welcome." A second valet took the kids' bags.
Jamie smiled at her father. "Cute, right?"
Conrad mumbled through sleepfog. "Who's cute?"
The group followed to a white Mercedes with black rims—discreet but elegant. Concord unbuckled, rubbing his neck.
Bethany climbed in the back with the kids. "Via Yasuko Street, Dad—Tokyo Disneyland first, then Universal."
Conrad blinked awake. "Yesss!"
--- -
At the Imperial Hotel satellite off-site lounge, Bethany spread small printed itineraries on the rosewood table.
"Day 1: spa, robot show, meet-and-greet with sumo wrestlers," she said. "Day 2: parks—Disney, Pokémon Café, Tower of Terror."
Conrad hopped up. "Day 3 is movie night, right?"
"No," Bethany smiled, "That's the dinner—your black‑tie dinner—at the Imperial Ballroom, 7 PM."
Conrad's grin faltered. "Dinner?"
"How about vegetarian tempura?" Bethany offered soothingly.
Conrad nodded slowly. "Okay. Fine."
----
Meanwhile, on the top floor of the same hotel, Kako stood in front of a giant mirror. A midnight-blue kimono gown slipped over her slender form, embroidered with cranes and waves of silver thread. Bethany stood nearby, pinning the hem, ensuring every crease was perfect.
Kako cleared her throat, reciting from memory: "...and with your support, we will move towards a new era of cooperation—"
Bethany handed her a glass of water. "Don't forget: Takako Fujimiya sees through weak partners."
Kako glanced toward the door, where a stack of invitation envelopes gleamed. "I won't let her down."
Bethany placed a hand on her shoulder. "Relax. Jamie and Bernard can do the rest."
But Kako's jaw tightened.
----
Later, in a quiet corridor, Jamie cornered her mother. They both breathed deep.
"Oh shit," Kako whispered. "What if Conrad finds out about this? He'll be very angry."
Jamie took her hand gently. "Mummy—relax. You can handle Dad."
Kako met her gaze. "I hope so."
Jamie squeezed her hand. "You got this."
They shared a brief smile—and Kako straightened her posture, resolve shining in her eyes.
As the clock ticked closer to evening, the Narumi family moved closer to their respective fates. Conrad, utterly oblivious, still expected theme parks and giant mochi. Jamie worked to hold the secret. And Kako, poised in formal fins, prepared to face the sharks of Tokyo society—waiting for one of them to betray the family paradise they'd built.
-----
The grand lobby of the Tokyo Imperial Hotel glowed like molten gold. Crystal chandeliers dripped from high ceilings and waiters in tuxedos glided across plush red carpets. A string quartet nestled in a corner, strings humming a quiet fanfare. Kako stood at the threshold of the main ballroom, flanked by Jamie and Stephanie—her diamonds in a world of polished steel.
"Pumpkin!" Fumio Shimizu's deep voice boomed through the grand entrance as he and his elegant wife, Sachiko, stepped forward. Fumio's gaze softened only the slightest.
"Daddy," Kako replied, hugging him, then inclining to embrace Sachiko, whose soft smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Look at my granddaughter, all grown up," Fumio murmured, scanning Jamie's poised posture.
"If they were here..." Sachiko trailed off. "...they'd be living like princesses."
Jamie shifted, a polite smile on her lips.
"Mom, they were raised in the Philippines," Kako said carefully. "That was their choice."
"Because your good-for-nothing husband insisted on it," Fumio snapped, voice loud enough to skim the silk fabric of dresses nearby. "Speaking of the devil," he continued, turning his gaze northward, "where is he? And the two kids?"
"They're on their way," Kako said, voice steady.
Just then, the double doors opened wide. Conrad sauntered in, flanked by Anthony—nervous in a dark jacket—and Stephanie, clutching her emoji-print bag like a shield.
"I thought this was a convention?" Conrad asked, scanning the ballroom's crystal columns and perfectly dressed guests.
"Dad," Anthony piped up, "the parks are first. Tomorrow is the convention."
Jamie squeezed Anthony's arm, eyebrows raised. Conrad continued, pointing at Fumio. "Why is... Satan here?"
Fumio's jaw flexed. Conrad's eyes flicked between Kako and her father.
"Conrad," Kako said gently, placing her hand on his arm, "I'm sorry for bringing you here unexpectedly."
He blinked, not taking his gaze off Fumio. "You lied to me."
"I didn't lie," Kako said. "Tomorrow is Disneyland. I just forgot to bring money—so I asked... Dad for extra funds."
Conrad scoffed. "You asked that hyena for money? Don't play dumb, Kako—I can handle our expenses. I just want honesty."
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
Conrad took a breath, then offered a wry grin. "Well, since it happened, let's enjoy the night." He shot a sidelong look at Fumio. "At least we're both here."
Fumio inclined his head, barely. "I'm glad you showed up, despite yourself."
"My pleasure," Conrad replied crisply.
----
Tables, each seating twelve, were arranged in a perfect rectangle around a central podium draped in white and gold. Kako's cousins, business partners, and high-ranking officials flanked her.
A cousin leaned over, voice warm but intrusive: "Kako, darling, why did you marry him? You're beautiful, intelligent... men line up for you."
"Conrad has something I always wanted," Kako said quietly. "He may lack pedigree and riches, but he—makes me laugh. He listens. He builds dreams—not just businesses."
The cousin nodded, eyebrow raised. "You're fortunate."
Conrad, easing into his seat, caught the tail end of the conversation. He reached for Jamie's hand.
Another relative chuckled: "You have three handsome children."
"Three?" Kako asked faintly.
"You must mean more." The cousin paused theatrically. "Five?"
"Yes," Kako said. "Five children."
Charlie and Dana?
"Charlie's in Germany. Dana in the US."
Jamie smiled. "So me, Charlie, Gabriella, Anthony, and Stephanie."
"Charlie and Gabriella are older," Kako corrected. "Charlie Dean. Gabriella Marie."
Conrad's gaze flicked to the menu, then back at Kako. He mouthed: Well played.
-----
Just as the first course—a delicate poached salmon—was being served, Fumio's voice cut through the clink of glasses.
"Mr. Narumi," he began, calm yet brittle, "this gathering is a celebration... but also a demonstration of legacy."
Conrad paused, spoon mid-air. "Certainly, sir."
Fumio fixed his gaze. "You—are a man with no pedigree. No fortune... nothing substantial except flattery."
The room fell silent. Guests turned, forks paused.
Conrad set down his spoon. "Pedigrees are for dogs, sir. I married your daughter without needing one."
A flush rose on Fumio's face; his wife inhaled sharply.
"Marriage is more than contracts!" Fumio roared. "It is diplomacy! Integration!"
Conrad leaned forward, voice calm but firm. "I integrated. I raised your grandchildren. I'm the one who made Kaitlyn fall asleep in Cebu... taught your grandson how to ride a bike..."
He looked at Jamie, Stephanie, Anthony. "That's pedigree I value."
Fumio glared. "Your pedigree is ignorance."
"Maybe," Conrad said. "But ignorance hasn't stopped me from filling the city hall, building food banks, and raising decent adults."
Fumio snapped his napkin down. "You misunderstand what power is."
Conrad folded his arms. "Maybe we disagree on power. I believe it's built with trust, loyalty—and yes, love."
Kako touched Conrad's hand under the table, guiding him back to calm.
Fumio hissed, but the air between them remained charged—like steel wires under pressure.
----
The dinner ended, applause rang, but the energy behind it carried too many unspoken lines. Champagne flutes clicked, the family split. Conrad guided Jamie and Anthony to the dessert table; Kako slipped away with her father and older relatives, voices hushed.
Later, in their hotel suite, Kako walked toward Conrad, who leaned back on the couch, untying his tie.
"Thank you," she said softly as she wrapped her arms around him.
"You thought I didn't know what was going on?" Conrad murmured. He shrugged. "You lost the deal with the children."
Kako sighed. "Maybe so."
He brushed a hand through her hair. "You can't control them anymore."
She met his gaze. "Maybe that's... for the best."
They stood silently for a moment, the echo of grandiose speeches still ringing in their minds.
Jamie burst in, carrying pastries and crepes. "Who wants starlight gelato?"
Stephanie followed, clutching a stuffed Pikachu. "We can watch cartoons."
Anthony trailed behind, cheerful and oblivious. "Dad, look—I made a Mario Kart playlist!"
Conrad took a deep breath and smiled. "Best deal I ever made."
Kako laughed and kissed his cheek. "I ruin everything—and somehow you still stick around."
He grinned. "I married you."
They closed the door softly behind them, stepping into domestic warmth after political storms.